Immersive

by Becky Moynihan

  Clank, clank, clank.

  Louder this time. More urgent.

  My heart rate sped up. I wasn’t ready. I would never be ready to leave him. But I stood anyway, taking more time than I should. “I have to go, but I’ll be back. Here, take this.” I started to remove Ryker’s jacket, but Bren stopped me with a shake of his head.

  “I can’t take that. They’ll trace it back to you.” At my helpless look, he attempted a reassuring smile. It fell flat. “I’ll be okay, little bird. Sensor blood runs hotter than most. Now go before you get caught.”

  As I turned, he grabbed my hand. I blinked, surprised at the firm hold.

  “Wait. There’s one thing I need you to do for me, Lune,” he said urgently, demanding my full attention. He had it. “Contact Jaxon. You know how. Tell him my mission has been compromised—the traitor works for Renold. Tell him that it’s now or never. And, Lune? Do what you have to do. Fight to be free; save yourself. Just promise that you won’t sacrifice yourself for me.”

  I shook my head incredulously. “I can’t promise you that.”

  “I’m not worth it,” he said forcefully, his hand trembling. “I’m not as strong as you think I am. I only pretend that I am to make myself feel better, and to hide the ugliness inside. I hate what I’ve done and don’t deserve to be saved.”

  My eyes ran over him, every inch that the thin light touched. He was beaten down, worn out and tired. Drowning in his demons. Buried in guilt. His heart was shrouded in shadow, tormented and heavy.

  But underneath all of that darkness was a heart of pure gold.

  I could see it even if he couldn’t. That warm light was what drew me to him in the first place. And it wasn’t fake. Despite being a spy and having the ability to charm the evilest of villains into trusting him, that gold center of his was real.

  I began to pull away, watching him strain against the chains as he continued to hold on. His fingers slipped from mine, leaving me achingly cold and bereft. I turned away. My boots were poised to climb the ladder when I finally said, “You’re worth it to me.”

  I knew he heard.

  Two steps from the top, a large hand reached down to help me out. I accepted without thought. But as he hauled me over the edge and I regained my footing, I looked up to discover . . .

  It wasn't Ryker.

  “Hello, lass.”

  I flinched back and the Recruiter Clan’s boss released my hand. There was no way I could run from this bad situation. Blocking the chain link fence were five other clansmen, two of which had a grip on Ryker. His father picked up the manhole cover as if it weighed nothing and slammed it in place.

  He straightened, wiping the dirt from his hands. “I’m not surprised to find you here. Bren always had a magnetic charm that was hard to resist. Pity that you are so thoroughly under his spell. But what I didn’t expect was to find my son here.”

  At the cool glare he slid Ryker’s way, warning bells clanged through my skull. That look. I’d seen it many times before—but on Renold’s face. I knew what it meant. “I just needed to say goodbye,” I said, attempting to draw his attention. My chin lifted when Rollie trained that look promising pain on me. “I wanted closure and Ryker gave me that. As a . . . as a bonding gift.”

  Crap. I didn’t even know if that was a thing. But he’d mentioned a bonding ritual, so it was the best I could come up with.

  The boss raised an eyebrow. “How generous of him. I didn’t know my son was the sharing type. But if that’s the case . . .” He lunged forward, shoving my shoulders. Instead of hitting the ground, though, a pair of hands broke my fall. Before they could release me, Rollie said, “Have at her, boys. Your prince likes to share.”

  There was a moment of hesitation, but when he added, “I’m rescinding the code, men. Don’t waste this opportunity,” the hands tightened, pawing at my jacket.

  I froze, paralyzed by the sound of a loud whoop as a couple more of the men surrounded me. One ripped my hood back, pulling out strands of hair in the process. My eyes found Ryker’s. His teeth were bared, muscles taut, but he wasn’t fighting to break free. When his gaze flicked to the boss, my stomach twisted. I understood then that I was on my own.

  Fine. I’d show them determination and the wily ways of women.

  I snapped my head back. Even as I heard a shout and the crunch of cartilage, I was moving for my next target. I kicked in a kneecap. Punched a throat. I managed to get in a few more hits when the groping hands became violent. Fingers gripped my hair and wrenched my head back. I rammed my leg into the man’s groin in front of me before my limbs were grabbed from all sides and I went down, down, down.

  They shredded the jacket from my body. Tore at me, leaving behind blood and bruises. I bowed my back off the ground, screaming, fighting with everything I had. “You’re animals!” I yelled. “Monsters. Beasts!”

  “Enough!” a deep voice bellowed. The men immediately stopped their assault. The weight on my chest lifted as they fell back, and I scrambled out of reach. I shook all over as I stood. My heart pounded so hard, I thought it would rupture.

  Before I could react, fingers grabbed my chin. Turned my head. “You accepted our mark,” the boss said, pulling my hair back from my face. “This changes things.”

  He whirled me around, still holding my hair. “From now on, no one touches her but my son,” he barked. “Those who break the code will pay with their lives. She’s a part of our clan now. Spread the word.” I flinched as his heavy boot stomped on the manhole cover. “You hear that down there? No one touches her.”

  With a flick of his wrist, he commanded the men to release Ryker. “My son and his intended mate may freely roam the city, all except this underground cell. As a reminder that my orders will not be disobeyed, even by our future princess . . .”

  I heard the quiet rasp of steel. But what he did next happened so fast, it was over before I could fully register the sharp tug. He shoved me again, and this time, Ryker caught me. I didn’t move, didn’t breathe as I waited to feel pain.

  “I want the bonding ritual done by sundown, boy,” Rollie said over my shoulder. Ryker nodded. “When it’s complete, bring her to Pack’s Tavern. She and I need to have a little chat.”

  The men filed through the gate behind their king, one remaining to guard Bren’s prison. When the only sound was the pattering of rain, I allowed my hand to drift upward, seeking out the damage. Ryker beat me to it. His fingers slid over my shoulders, gathering something before pulling away. I looked down at what he held.

  Long strands of dark red hair.

  I stared at the pale stranger in the mirror.

  The girl had a cut on her cheek. Purple smudges under her eyes. A black sliver of moon speckled with stars cupped her left brow. Her jagged hair, dark auburn beneath the dim lights, barely dusted her shoulders. Her full lips were pinched, bled of color. But her eyes . . .

  That clear spark of determination was familiar.

  “Who’s tough?” I whispered to her. “That’s right. You are.”

  And for the first time ever, she nodded back, knowing the words were true.

  “Let me cut it for you.”

  “No.”

  “Stop being stubborn. I’ve been cutting my hair for years. I’ll make sure it’s even.”

  “Oh, so that chunk missing in the back was done on purpose?”

  He quickly ran a hand over his head, seeking out bald spots. “I don’t have a—” Ryker caught the gleam in my eye and dropped his arm with an irritated sigh. All too easy. “I’m surprised you’re in such high spirits.”

  “It’s just hair.” I shrugged. “Better than losing my head.”

  And I’d seen Bren. He was alive and well. Or as well as could be expected under the circumstances. That look of defeat, though . . . Stars, I had to get him out of there and soon.

  “What is this bonding ritual we need to do?” I asked, closing yet another empty cupboard in Ryker’s kitchen. My stomach growled loudly, still recovering from almost being
starved to death.

  Ryker tossed me something. Dried meat. Not my favorite, but I’d eat just about anything right now. “You ask about the ritual instead of demanding what my best kept secret is that I promised to tell you?”

  “It’ll keep for a while longer. Is this squirrel meat?” I grimaced, but ripped off a piece anyway. “Sounds like this bonding thing is a pressing matter. How long will it take?”

  “Not long.”

  I stopped chewing and eyed him suspiciously. “I still love Bren, Ryker. This better not be something weird that involves taking off our clothes and—”

  “Despite what you think,” he interrupted, giving me a hard stare, “we’re not animals. Maybe rough around the edges, but we have rules to live by, a code of honor. Women here are seen as lesser, yes, but a chosen mate is revered. She is untouchable once under the head alpha’s protection. You earned that honor, so you will be respected.”

  I made sure to give him the biggest eye roll on the planet. “So chopping off my hair was a sign of respect?” I stuck another wad of squirrel into my mouth, muttering, “Sign me up for a lifetime of bad hairdos.”

  “No, that was a warning. You got off lightly. Everyone has to obey the head alpha’s orders, even his queen.”

  I blinked. “You have a mother?”

  He looked at me like I’d lost a few brain cells. “Of course I do.”

  “No, I mean, is she alive? Does she live here?” Or was he a test tube baby like Iris? The thought turned my stomach. I set down the remaining squirrel meat.

  He jerked his chin toward the bedroom where we couldn’t be overheard. When the door was closed, he began to pace. I leaned against the wall and crossed my ankles, settling in for a story. Hopefully. Something told me he didn’t talk about his mother often.

  “How good are you at keeping your mouth shut?” he said, still pacing. I hurled a scowl at his back.

  “For eleven years, I didn’t tell anyone that I was kidnapped and beaten by my adoptive father,” I said baldly, since he already knew.

  He stopped in the middle of the room and watched me with those intense blue eyes. I struggled not to squirm. “So you’d hold up under torture?”

  I gaped. “T-torture?”

  “If the boss finds out what I’m planning, I’m dead. And if I’m dead, there’s no point in keeping you alive—unless he uses you for the breeding program. So tomorrow, when he has a little chat with you, nothing I say can be repeated.”

  “I won’t say anything. You’re my ticket out of here and into Tatum City, remember? I wouldn’t jeopardize that.”

  “I thought you didn’t want to return,” he said shrewdly.

  “I don’t,” I admitted. “But it’s as you said. I left someone behind.”

  I couldn’t leave Iris all alone to suffer the same fate I did. But I needed help, and having Ryker as an ally was a good place to start.

  He approached and I straightened, unsure of his intentions. When he grasped my wrist, I stiffened, but didn’t pull away. “Swear a blood oath to me that you won’t tell a soul, and I’ll tell you everything.”

  When his thumb slid over my inner wrist, I whispered, “What are you doing?”

  “Checking your pulse for a lie.”

  “Oh.” I swallowed, all too aware of how close he was standing. “Okay, fine. But what’s a blood oath?”

  Instead of replying, he let go and reached behind him, pulling out a knife. Without hesitation, he dragged the blade across his right palm. Blood immediately welled up, and I stared at him incredulously. “Your turn.” He flipped the knife, offering me the handle.

  “What? No. This is . . . it’s unsanitary. What if you have a disease?”

  His expression flattened. “I don’t have a disease. Do you want me to do it for you?”

  “No,” I practically shouted. “Definitely not.” Grimacing, I took the knife still wet with his blood. This was stupid. But I needed answers. I sighed, muttering, “This better not turn me into Wolf Girl,” before neatly slicing my palm. I watched as an old scar split open, blood bubbling to the surface.

  Ryker quickly grabbed my hand and pressed our palms together, sealing in the blood. My first instinct was to pull away, but he linked our fingers, squeezing until my knuckles whitened. He withdrew a slim cord from his pocket and wrapped the length around our joined hands. The cut on my palm began to burn as he cinched the cord tight.

  When he was done, he resheathed the knife and placed his thumb over my inner wrist again. “Do you swear to uphold this blood oath on pain of death?”

  “Ryker,” I whispered, and his eyes settled on mine. “You’re creeping me out.”

  He blew out a breath, annoyance in his tone as he said, “Do you swear or not?”

  “Fine. I swear.”

  “Say it,” he growled softly.

  “I swear to uphold this blood oath on pain of death. There, happy?”

  “I’m never happy.”

  “You need a hobby then. Something relaxing. Fishing, perhaps.”

  His brows lowered. “This is serious.”

  I schooled my expression into seriousness.

  He remained silent long enough for me to feel uncomfortable. Probably a tactic he learned from his father. “You were never supposed to enter this city, and I was meant to quickly leave after handing Bren over,” he began, dropping my wrist but still keeping our bound hands locked together.

  “I underestimated Skervvy’s need for revenge and his desire to prove himself, though—he always wanted to be an alpha. When he took you and Bren’s backpack containing the box, I had to formulate a new plan. The Supreme Elite’s orders were explicit: make sure Bren completes his mission or complete it for him. Without you and that box, he’d never let me back inside Tatum City.”

  “What’s in the box?”

  “Serum vials of some kind. Similar to what the people under the mountain interrogated me with. They tried to pry answers from me about my mission and alliances, but I proved resistant to their methods.”

  Cold dread shivered up my spine. “Was the serum in the box yellow?”

  His eyes narrowed. “Yes. Why?”

  I hesitated, knowing that I was treading on dangerous ground. If he really was loyal to Renold, then this could end badly for me. But what if I could sway his allegiance? I fiddled with my necklace, watching his face for signs of deception. “Ryker, what is Renold really up to?”

  “He doesn’t tell me everything, but—” He paused, studying our linked hands as though tempted to undo this whole blood oath agreement. Finally, he looked up. “I’ll tell you what I know if you explain to me what your ability is. And not the short answer. Every last detail.”

  “Okay.”

  He blinked. “Really?”

  “It’s the only way we’re both going to get what we want. So, yes, I’ll tell you.” I plowed ahead without preamble, knowing that I could be playing right into Renold’s hands. But I didn’t know what else to do. It was time to take a chance. “I’m a Visionary. I can see things happen before they happen, predicting an opponent’s move before they make it. I can also seek people and objects—and not just by tracking. I can tunnel into my mind and form a tether with what I seek, actually seeing the object or person.

  “Oh, and I can telepathically communicate inside people’s heads.” I shrugged. “I’m still working on that part though.”

  To say he was shell-shocked was an understatement. It did sound pretty crazy. His mouth opened and closed several times. “Prove it,” he whispered, as if dreading the very thing he was asking.

  It was my turn to study our clasped fingers. “I, uh, I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because . . . because when I thought Bren was dead, I just . . . I don’t know.”

  “You broke.”

  My nostrils flared as I glared up at him. “No, I didn’t.”

  “You did.”

  “I didn’t!”

  “Then. Prove. It.” Each word was a challeng
e, mocking the foundation of my strength.

  I threw him an angry look but slammed my eyes shut, breathing deeply. Searching for my source of calm and control. Focus on his stupid face. Focus on his annoying voice. Focus, focus, focus . . .

  His scent came to me then. Earthen. Smoky. Like a campfire. Awakening memories I’d much rather forget. But they unlocked something else, too. A feeling of being sucked inside myself. A feeling still very much foreign and a bit frightening. In the pitch black, an invisible tether formed, drawing me to him. I resisted the pull at first, not wanting to get stuck in his head. Fear of what I’d find was a deterrent yet a curiosity. But the tug was insistent, and I plunged ahead.

  Into a tangle of intense emotions.

  His emotions. A swirling wall of anger, pain, loneliness, and . . . desire.

  I felt like an intruder.

  I knew Bren or Iris wouldn’t mind me in their heads.

  But Ryker?

  I whispered his name into the void, then louder when there was no answer. Nothing happened. Frustration built. I was stronger than this. Dominic, my teacher at The Ridge, had said my mind was a steel trap, stronger than any he’d ever felt before.

  I’m not broken!

  I know you aren’t.

  At the sound of Ryker’s voice in my head, I coughed in surprise. When I’d connected with Bren and Iris in the past, I had heard them speak out loud—not in my mind. With Ryker, the words had echoed, filling my ears as if they were my own thoughts.

  Something rubbed against my face, snapping me back to myself. Instead of meeting Ryker’s eyes, his black shirt swam into view. It was right there. Plastered to my cheek. What the—? Crap. I was leaning on him, his arm around me for support.

  “That happens sometimes,” I mumbled, wiggling out of his hold. When I didn’t get very far, I gestured at our joined hands. “Can we—?”

  I needed space to clear my head. If the desire he’d been feeling was for me, I would have to be more careful. Bren may have all but given me permission to do what was necessary, but I wouldn’t play with someone’s heart. Including mine. I knew how painful betrayal felt.